theclassics
Stories
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“Do you know, Austin,” said Villiers, as the two friends were pacing sedately along Piccadilly one pleasant morning in May, “do you know I am convinced that what you told me about Paul Street and the Herberts is a mere episode in an extraordinary history? I may as well confess to you that when I asked you about Herbert a few months ago I had just seen him.” “You had seen him? Where?” “He begged of me in the street one night. He was in the most pitiable plight, but I recognized the man,… -
A few months after Villiers’ meeting with Herbert, Mr. Clarke was sitting, as usual, by his after-dinner hearth, resolutely guarding his fancies from wandering in the direction of the bureau. For more than a week he had succeeded in keeping away from the “Memoirs,” and he cherished hopes of a complete self-reformation; but, in spite of his endeavours, he could not hush the wonder and the strange curiosity that the last case he had written down had excited within him. He had put the case, or rather…
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“Herbert! Good God! Is it possible?” “Yes, my name’s Herbert. I think I know your face, too, but I don’t remember your name. My memory is very queer.” “Don’t you recollect Villiers of Wadham?” “So it is, so it is. I beg your pardon, Villiers, I didn’t think I was begging of an old college friend. Good-night.” “My dear fellow, this haste is unnecessary. My rooms are close by, but we won’t go there just yet. Suppose we walk up Shaftesbury Avenue a little way? But how…
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Mr. Clarke, the gentleman chosen by Dr. Raymond to witness the strange experiment of the god Pan, was a person in whose character caution and curiosity were oddly mingled; in his sober moments he thought of the unusual and eccentric with undisguised aversion, and yet, deep in his heart, there was a wide-eyed inquisitiveness with respect to all the more recondite and esoteric elements in the nature of men. The latter tendency had prevailed when he accepted Raymond’s invitation, for though his considered…
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“I am glad you came, Clarke; very glad indeed. I was not sure you could spare the time.” “I was able to make arrangements for a few days; things are not very lively just now. But have you no misgivings, Raymond? Is it absolutely safe?” The two men were slowly pacing the terrace in front of Dr. Raymond’s house. The sun still hung above the western mountain-line, but it shone with a dull red glow that cast no shadows, and all the air was quiet; a sweet breath came from the great wood on the…
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On the ninth of January, now four days ago, I received by the evening delivery a registered envelope, addressed in the hand of my colleague and old school companion, Henry Jekyll. I was a good deal surprised by this; for we were by no means in the habit of correspondence; I had seen the man, dined with him, indeed, the night before; and I could imagine nothing in our intercourse that should justify formality of registration. The contents increased my wonder; for this is how the letter ran: “10th… -
Mr. Utterson was sitting by his fireside one evening after dinner, when he was surprised to receive a visit from Poole. “Bless me, Poole, what brings you here?” he cried; and then taking a second look at him, “What ails you?” he added; “is the doctor ill?” “Mr. Utterson,” said the man, “there is something wrong.” “Take a seat, and here is a glass of wine for you,” said the lawyer. “Now, take your time, and tell me plainly what you want.” “You know the doctor’s…
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It chanced on Sunday, when Mr. Utterson was on his usual walk with Mr. Enfield, that their way lay once again through the by-street; and that when they came in front of the door, both stopped to gaze on it. “Well,” said Enfield, “that story’s at an end at least. We shall never see more of Mr. Hyde.” “I hope not,” said Utterson. “Did I ever tell you that I once saw him, and shared your feeling of repulsion?” “It was impossible to do the one without the other,” returned…
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